


'cause nobody ever survives

by Luthor



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthor/pseuds/Luthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire AU: “I’m leaving. I’m going to disappear, Emma, do you understand?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	'cause nobody ever survives

**Author's Note:**

> Taking on another unfinished multi-chapter fic against my better judgement. whoops. This has been in the works for years, literally, and I finally found it again and got back to finishing it up. I was hoping that it would be a oneshot, but I'm guessing there'll be a few more chapters, yet. 
> 
> Title comes from Puscifer's 'Rev 22:20'. More than worth the listen. 
> 
> Warning: this fic is going to rely heavily on the use of flashbacks.

The apartment was silent when Emma awoke. The sky was already teetering past dusk, the downy blues sinking into deeper, velvety shades, leaving day behind and welcoming the night. The glass of her windowpane was barely thick enough to shield the noise of the living world outside, yet the curtains – already pulled tightly closed – blocked out even the slightest slither of light, just in case.

As she moved through to the open-plan living, kitchen and dining area, Emma flicked on a number of dull lamps. She was so used to their weak glow that her skin no longer crawled at the sight of the shadows that they brought to the corners of the room.

She heard the splashing of water and the continuous scrubbing of bristles on metal even before she set eyes on Regina. She was standing with her back to Emma, bent over the sink as she washed the dishes that had been left on the counter. Regina had pulled back the curtains, and a quick glance to the window confirmed that the sky had only just started dimming.

She couldn’t have been here long, then, she must have come directly after awakening.

As Emma moved closer to her, passing the first aid kit that had been left on the dining room table (always within easy reach), she noticed that Regina had already washed the majority of the dirty dishes and was now stuck on a dull silver pan. By now, it came as no surprise that Regina had been cleaning in near darkness. She lived her life in the dark, and Emma had somehow found herself among that world, too.

The metal of the pan, however, had never looked cleaner, almost gleaming under the strained light that radiated in from the living room. Still, Regina scrubbed at the pan like it was covered in grease.

“I think it’s clean,” was all Emma said, her presence neither startling Regina nor gaining her attention.

The scrubbing continued, suds climbing up Regina’s arms and dissolving with an itch. “I can still smell it.” Her tone sounded strained, and Emma released a frustrated sigh. She hated sleeping through a fight, but this was one that she would not be backing down from, no matter how persistent Regina vowed to be.

Regina, too, must have been plagued by her irritation, as she soon huffed a sigh and dropped the pan back into the sink, drying her hands on a nearby towel. When she turned to face Emma, her pupils were almost non-existent in the centre of her warm, dark irises.

She’d fed, then.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Regina finally said, towel folded and thrown on the counter top. She sounded inexplicably sad, and all Emma wished to do was cradle her to her chest and reassure her that it would all be okay. But even she knew that something had to give; one of them had to back down, and it sure as hell was not going to be her. Not this time.

“And yet here you are.” Emma crossed her arms and leaned back against a counter, the statement sitting between them expectantly, as though waiting to undermine all of Regina’s arguments.

Regina sighed again, and Emma knew that it was entirely for her benefit. The air that wheezed around her lungs was neither necessary nor appreciated. A frown creased her brow and a tense muscle set her jaw. “I could not leave without warning you,” she said, voice darker than usual.

Emma’s eyebrows twitched. “Warning me about what?” Regina seemed to steel her nerves against something, and Emma took a hold of the countertop behind her, as though it would soon take some effort to keep upright.

“I’m leaving the country, Emma, and I need you to promise me that you won’t come looking for me.” Regina saw the anger that flashed through those familiar green eyes, but before Emma had a chance to interrupt, she continued, “I won’t be in any of the places that you will go. It will be a futile search that will put your life in danger, and I _need you to promise_ me that you won’t walk head first into any dens.”

Bitter silence greeted her.

“I’m not good for you, Emma.” Her gaze wavered, settling behind Emma, where Emma knew the first aid kit to be sitting. “I can’t put you at risk any longer.”

“You’re not putting me at risk,” Emma sighed. “Jesus, Regina, we’ve talked about this! You know how I feel.”

“Which is why I need to go.” Her tone remained calm, even as Emma’s expression fractured in front of her. “Our lives can’t coexist together. One of them has to give, and I’ve tried everything I can to end this curse.” She took a pause for breath that she no longer needed, and tried not to see the angry tears that filled Emma’s eyes. “I’m leaving. I’m going to disappear, Emma, do you understand?”

Emma had no response. She turned away, forcing the conversation open as though it could hold them both indeterminably. She’d known that this was coming since she first learned what Regina was. She had been preparing for it, she realised, now, without really knowing it, though now all of that fell short.

When Emma lifted her eyes back to Regina’s face, they were filled with angry denial. “You can’t even stop visiting my apartment, how do you think you’re going to last out of the country?”

Regina turned towards the window and laughed, because it was true. A brief stirring of hope led Emma to her, and she placed a hand down on the crook for Regina’s elbow from behind. But when Regina turned to her, it was only to say, “I’m going, anyway.”

And then, she did.

 

# # # #

 

[FLASHBACK]

_Regina's legs were not the most comfortable cushion she’d ever had, but Emma laid her head there happily, feeling Regina’s fingers in her hair. They were in the middle of the local park past midnight, a bench beneath them, and Regina took practiced care to wind each curl of Emma’s hair around her fingers, before releasing them again, free of knots._

_“I don’t believe that,” Emma said, returning to a conversation that Regina had assumed had ended over five minutes ago. “You always have a choice. If you want companionship, you can have it. Unless it’s one of those Great Vampire Taboos?”_

_Regina smiled and released a perfect coil of hair from around her index finger. “It’s not taboo.”_

_“Other vampires just frown upon it?” Emma looked up at her with a smirk, as though catching Regina out. “And you say you don’t care what people think about you…”_

_Regina gave her hair a light tug. “I’m immortal, Emma,” she said, in a way that made Emma huff. “You may laugh all you like, little girl, but I am.” She smiled at Emma’s scowl, and then traced the wrinkles in her forehead with her fingertips. “I watch the world age, but never do so myself. It can be—”_

_“Lonely?”_

_Regina arched an eyebrow. “I was going to say isolating. But, yes, that too.”_

_“So, you’ve never had a relationship with a human before?” Emma shifted her shoulders on her lap, wanting to complain about how bony Regina was, but she kept quiet, waiting for an answer._

_“I don’t do relationships,” Regina sniffed._

_“Ah, I forgot,” Emma grinned. “You’re Regina Mills, Ice Queen Extraordinaire.” Regina only looked faintly irritated, and so Emma asked, “What about vampires?”_

_Regina’s fingers returned to her hair, and she leaned back against the bench, her eyes reaching the stars. “What about them?”_

_Emma watched her expression for a moment, drumming her fingers over her stomach, where her hands were folded. She couldn’t see Regina’s eyes, but a cloud overhead shifted and moonlight lit her face. Vaguely, Emma wondered how she would look, lit by sunlight, and a shiver gripped her spine. “Have you ever had a vampire companion?”_

_Regina’s gaze faltered, but didn’t quite fall to her lap. She took so long in replying that Emma just assumed that she wasn’t going to, and then she said, quietly, “Once, yes.”_

_Emma nodded her head, and they didn’t say anything for a while._

_“Your maker?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Regina had never mentioned her in detail. They called her Snow, because of the complete loss of pigmentation from her skin. As far as Emma understood it, that happened to most Caucasian vampires when they became an Elder._

_Emma watched her closely, always so eager to learn more. She was always so careful with the questions that they asked, and Regina was slowly revealing more about the past that Emma thought she was trying to forget. There was a crispness to the air tonight that made Emma want to ignore her diplomatic tactics. If Regina wasn’t going to answer her, she might as well not answer a proper question, Emma figured, and proceeded to ask, “What happened to her?”_

_Regina was quiet for a long time, but she didn’t outright change topics, and that gave Emma hope. Her fingers resumed their pawing through Emma’s hair, short nails lightly scratching her scalp, and Emma closed her eyes with a quiet sigh, almost forgetting completely about the question she’d asked._

_“There was a spot of trouble,” Regina eventually said, and Emma nodded her head, though kept her eyes closed. “I was never privy to the details, but Snow had upset a very powerful coven. We were as good as nomads, back then, we had no one to turn to.”_

_“So what did she do?”_

_Regina’s fingers stopped in her hair. “She accepted her fate.”_

_Emma opened her eyes, but Regina wasn’t looking at her. She was staring out at the park, at the treeline that wasn’t quite a wood, but Emma doubted she saw it, anyway. She was about to ask more, prompt Regina along, but the words caught in her throat._

_“They came for her. She told me to go, but I couldn’t. There’s a bond between maker and progeny that— I hid, instead.” Emma caught the shifting of her throat, knew that she had swallowed, and wondered if Regina would be tearing up, now, if she had the ability to do so without losing blood. “I watched them tear her limb from limb, and hang her out for the morning sun.” Her hands left Emma’s hair, settling with a kind of finality against her stomach. “Since then, I’ve found that I prefer to travel alone.”_

_Emma could not see her eyes, which she was thankful for. She didn’t know what she could offer Regina in reply, and so she kept quiet, thinking better than to ask Regina how she had managed to survive._

 

# # # #

 

When Emma woke up, again, she was alone. For a short few seconds, the events of the night eluded her. She rolled over in bed and squinted her eyes before bringing the covers up to shield her from the light.

The panic set in first. As though her flesh had become as sensitive to the sunlight as Regina’s, she pushed herself up from the bed in her haste to reach the window. It was only once she had her bedroom curtains closed that she realised that Regina must have been the one to open them. She felt her shoulders sag against the weight of the knowledge, unable, now, to elude Regina’s disappearance.

Emma had tried to stay awake through the night, as Regina held her and she cried, hoping that she could last until morning, and then Regina would have been forced to stay. But her late nights and long hours at work had exhausted her, and she was running on only a few hours’ sleep from the nap she had taken the evening before.

As easy as the Earth’s rotation, and likely just as quietly, Regina had left her.

Her absence lingered about the room, and Emma stifled her bottom lip against her tears. In the two years that she had known Regina, she’d never felt so inexplicably alone. They had been outcasts, together; she’d felt just as rejected by society as Regina ultimately was. Now that Regina had gone, Emma felt a reluctant tie knot itself around her wrist, chaining her to the world that she had longed to leave behind.

She’d only suffered here, and now, it seemed, she always would.

 


End file.
